


On This Sunny Afternoon

by RockSaltandCherryPie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Boys Will Be Boys, Fooling Around, M/M, Playing, Tickling, Underage - Freeform, Weecest, Wincest - Freeform, Wrestling, mentioned wetting, tickle kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-10
Updated: 2014-05-10
Packaged: 2018-01-24 05:52:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1593980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockSaltandCherryPie/pseuds/RockSaltandCherryPie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They do this all the time. It usually doesn't end up like this though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On This Sunny Afternoon

**Author's Note:**

> ages unspecified (12/16?)  
> (This is totally _that thing that happened_ that they forgot about two seconds later.)  
>  Title from the Kinks song cause I couldn't think of a good one lol.  
> enjoy. :)

It was one of those lazy weekends. The ones where Dad would leave them and go off to take care of whatever business called to him for the day. On this particularly sunny Sunday, Dad was at a rendezvous with an old friend in town. Since Sam and Dean had been on summer vacation, Dad had packed the Impala as soon as June hit and told the boys they were going to go on (yet another) road trip. So it was no surprise they sat bored on a plain looking bed sweating buckets in a motel called _The Sunrise Inn_ off highway 87.

Something they did a lot was wrestle. It was just something that happened when they had nothing to do, and it was usually to relieve some much-needed tension. At least, that was how Dean saw it.

Most of the time Dad was around to break it up or subdue their playful shouting with a casual "enough, boys" over his shoulder. But today it was just the two of them, and Sam snatched the remote off Dean's lap because he didn't want to watch black and white cowboys drinking and shooting each other, and things escalated.

Dean reached for the remote at first but Sam stretched his arm out as wide as he could and then Dean was on top of him, trying to grab at the thing. Sam pulled it in, curling inwardly on the bed, laughing and yelling "no!"

Dean wiggled his fingers into the sensitive creases in Sam's body; his armpits, his neck, the backs of his knees. "Give it you little twerp!"

The truth was, Dean was addicted to this. To Sam's laughter, his violent kicks and flailing limbs, his writhing body.

And Sam would never admit it but he sometimes did things that he knew Dean would get angry at on purpose, just to fall into their usual rhythmic tousle.

"No!" Sam laughed, jerking and rolling around. "Stop!"

Dean half sat on Sam and tried to snake his hand into the groove of Sam's stomach, and Sam cried out. Sam tossed the remote across the room and then stumbled over to the other bed, Dad's, falling on his knees and trying to catch his breath. He had thought Dean would happily snatch the remote up, smug smirk of triumph painted across his freckled cheeks, but instead his body was over Sam's again, fingers mercilessly wiggling under his armpits.

"Ah! _Dean_!" Sam wailed, clawing to get on the bed and sobbing on a fit of giggles.

Dean followed, clutching Sam's small body close to his, smelling his sweat, bumping his baby soft legs with his own. They rocked as Dean got him in a loose choke-hold, and Sam stuck his tongue out as far as he could to stretch down to Dean's arm.

"Ah!" Dean boomed, feeling the soft, hot wetness over his skin and shivering despite the thousand degree air.

Sam laughed in proud amusement, went to kick out at Dean but Dean only grabbed at him again, grunting in his ear playfully. Dean's torturous fingers returned, wriggling over Sam's ribs and Sam squirmed until his back was to Dean and his legs were kicking.

"Stop tickling me!" He pleaded, laughter endlessly bubbling up from his hoarse throat, eyes watering.

Sam tugged one of Dean's hands up and bit down hard on the meat of his palm and Dean cried out.

"Ow!" Dean pushed Sam a little and Sam turned onto his stomach, his face pressed flat into Dad's pillow. He could faintly smell on it a twinge of musk and a hint of aftershave.

Dean climbed over him in an unmethodical mass, pinning him down with his weight. Tormenting fingers were back at the sides of Sam's ribs, his waist. Sam was laughing uncontrollably now, gasping in between like he couldn't catch his breath.

"Stop it!" Sam's legs lashed out desperately over and over, stuck in place by Dean's heavy weight right on top of him.

Dean held back his own laughter, toying with Sam, making him crazy. Dean dug his wiggling fingers up under Sam, between him and the bed, and Sam unexpectedly screamed out louder and jolted like he'd been struck with electricity. Dean's fingers wiggled lower, under his ribs and in the dip of his stomach.

Sam was sweating like crazy, his skin on fire and sensitive. He tried to press down as hard as he could into the mattress. " _Dean!_ " He barely choked out. He couldn't even plead anymore. It was impossible to get things out of his agitated throat. He felt Dean's fingers squirm lower, worming their way just in the tender groove of his groin, and he gasped and shouted.

"No, Dean, stop." He felt something spill out of him, might have been just a drop, but he was soaking wet everywhere on his body including _down there_ , so you never know.

Dean didn't give up, though. His fingers kept at it, shifting his weight when Sam tried to push up but failed.

"No, seriously, I'm gonna piss myself." Sam wished he was joking.

"You gonna piss on Dad's bed you sicko?"

Sam felt Dean's chest flush against his back, fingers going back up to tickle over exposed ribs. Sam cried out, all of his muscles clenched.

"I'm about to," he sobbed into Dad's pillow, mouth hanging open, hot saliva gathering, about to overflow. He sucked it back and pushed his hips so Dean would get off.

Dean relaxed, fell to the side, one leg still draped over Sam, and held Sam's hip. "Seriously?" He couldn't keep the grin from stretching across his face.

"I think so," Sam turned on his side as Dean pushed his hip up to check the front of his shorts. There was nothing there except an obvious bulge that neither of them seemed to pay any mind to. Sam pushed off the bed now that Dean stopped and fixed his disheveled shorts higher on his hips.

Dean was out of breath but he tackled Sam again, pulled him right back on the bed by the waist and they bounced together, bed springs creaking and heated covers tangling up. Dean's leg snaked between Sam's and Sam curled on his stomach again, laughing and groaning at the same time. He pushed up on his knees but Dean only followed, playfully tapping his butt and throwing himself over him. Sam snorted and reached behind himself, contorting his body in awkward ways to grab at Dean. He held Dean's wrists so that they wouldn't start their ruthless routine, but Dean only pushed against Sam's hold, wrapping thick arms around his waist and dragging him down again. Sam shrieked as they slammed down into the mattress again, a bit higher up, their bodies twining together in one chaotic tangle of golden limbs.

Dean buried his nose in strands of Sam's damp brown hair, nuzzling in the nape of his neck. Sam giggled and parted his legs a little. Dean's thigh was right in between his own, pushing up, making his shorts ride up.

Their skin hummed, alive and burning hot. Dean playfully rocked into him, and Sam's hips rubbed against the mattress with every push.

He was overheating, and he began to feel like maybe he was gonna pee again, and he wasn't sure if he should warn Dean or just go with it. The friction felt amazing, right at his dick. The bedsprings squeaked continuously, and Dean just kept rutting into him, almost bouncing. Sam heaved into the crappy bed cover, his hips grinding against the mattress. And suddenly it was feeling so good he was seeing stars. He slammed his eyes shut and clenched his fists around the fabric under him, bouncing his hips and feeling Dean behind him grinding down on them. His whole body shuddered, heat waves crashing over him again and again. Dean groaned into his neck, humid lips opening and dragging along soaked, buzzing skin. Sam panted into the mattress, exhausted and drained, and collapsed. Dean flopped down over him as well, following his body, sticking to it like glue.

They tried to catch their breath, swallowing and heaving loudly together.

There was a shoot out on the TV, tinny gunshots firing rapidly one after the other.

Sam was so hot and wrung out he felt close to passing out. When he finally caught his breath Dean had rolled off of him and lay on his back staring up at the ceiling and grinning wide. Sam swung wobbly limbs off the bed and retrieved the disregarded remote control from the floor and tossed it at Dean. It hit his stomach and Dean jolted.

"Ow!"

" _Jerk_."


End file.
